Misadventures
by mustlovecat
Summary: Oneshot. Flack is called upon to help Danny and Lindsay out. Can the NYPD hero handle two week old twins?


**A/N **Sorry for the long delay in updating. I'm back at work and after being flat on my back recovering from surgery for 4.5 weeks, full days in the office have wiped me out. But a few people have commented on how much they loved the Flack/Olivia moment in "Paint", so I was inspired to write a little more for Flack and the twins. As my faithful followers know, I am a D/L shipper, but Flack is _it_ for me, and a protective Flack is my hero  This follows "Paint" if you're reading my fics chronologically.

**Disclaimer** I still own nothing. But with only 24 hours to go until the premiere of Season 4, I'm bestowing only reverence upon the lucky people who do own everything CSI:NY.

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Don walked into his apartment with a sigh, his hand instantly going to the Windsor knot in his tie and loosening it as he closed the door behind him. He had been up for well over twenty-seven hours, had not eaten in at least eleven, and had been fighting a headache for the past four. He realized he would be out of work if it were not for psychopathic killers, but was it too much to ask that they take a summer vacation like everyone else?

He wandered through the apartment into his bedroom and pulled off his suit jacket, then his tie, then untucked his dress shirt and started to unbutton it. All he wanted was a shower, some cold, leftover pizza, and maybe a beer. Then sleep. Preferably a long, dreamless sleep that would last well into the morning of his day off.

On his way to the bathroom for the shower he had been craving, the ringing of his landline interrupted his thoughts. He grabbed the cordless phone off his dresser on his way, and seeing "Messer" across the call display, he answered. "Hello?"

"Hi, Don. It's Lindsay."

"Hey. Something wrong?" he asked, noticing her voice was quiet and strained.

"We, uh – We just got a call from Angelina. Carmine's in the ER with chest pains. They're running tests, but of course, Danny wants to go be there for his mom and I don't think he should go alone, but Mama and Daddy left yesterday and we haven't left the twins with anyone else yet and –"

"Breathe, Monroe. Is it easier to bring 'em here on the way or for me to come there?"

"Oh, Don, you don't have to do that. I was going to ask you to take Danny."

"No, c'mon, Linds, you should be with him. His folks are your family, too. It's not a problem for me to watch the ankle biters."

She was silent on the other end of the line for a moment. "Have you ever babysat before?" she finally asked a little incredulously.

"I've got eight nieces and nephews, remember?"

"But twins?"

"I think I can handle a couple two week olds."

Seeing no alternative, and knowing that her right place was at Danny's side, she relented. "Can you be here in the next half hour?"

"I'm on my way. And look, I'm sure everything will be fine. Carmine's tough."

They said their goodbyes and Don quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Twenty minutes later, he was being buzzed up to the Messer's new apartment. He was wondering if he should be offended that Lindsay was questioning whether he could handle babysitting kids. Was he not the same man who led the charge on the biggest drug bust in the city's history? Had he not faced down mobsters holding AK-47's? Had he not had escaped more than one life-threatening situation in his day? Had he not…

"Don, thanks so much for doing this," said Lindsay as she opened the front door to him, interrupting his musings.

"Like I said, no problem." He walked inside to find his best friend on the phone, speaking in an Italian-English mix rather animatedly. "His mom?"

Lindsay nodded.

"Mama, we're on our way. _No, saremo là presto. _Don't worry. Donnie's going to stay with them," Danny was saying, looking apologetically at his wife and best friend. "Yes, Don Flack. Of course he knows how to take care of a baby_Il Flacks ha più capretti nella loro famiglia che facciamo.__Si, mama, so_…"

She smiled sympathetically at her husband as she started giving Don the run-down on the twins' schedule.

Soon enough, Danny and Lindsay were heading out the door, Don once again assuring them that the kids would be fine under his care. However, once alone, with the twins staring up at him from their respective bassinettes parked in the middle of the living room, he was suddenly not quite as confident.

"You're two weeks old. Aren't you supposed to sleep all the time?" he said to them in confusion.

With that Olivia's eyes fluttered shut.

"That seals it. You're my favourite, Liv," he kidded.

Seeing that Matteo was still wide-eyed, Don picked him up and carried him over to the couch with him, sitting down with the little boy tucked into his arm.

"All right, Matteo. Uncle Don's had a long day. I'm sure you have, too, what with all you have to do. But I had a runner today. Uncle Don hates runners. Not as much as your dad hates leapers, maybe, but you get the picture."

Matteo gurgled.

Flack could not help but chuckle. "You're gonna be nothing but trouble, aren't ya, kid? Although, you _are_ Messer's son, so I guess it goes without sayin'. But you know something? Your pop's always had my back. No matter what, he's been there. So, you can count on me to do the same for you. The first time you get arrested and you're too freaked out to call your old man, you call me. Unless you've actually killed someone, I'll see what I can do. All right, bud? We got a deal?"

The infant's eyes started to close and Don smirked in satisfaction. To think Lindsay was worried. This was a piece of cake!

Once he was certain Matteo was asleep, he put him back into his bassinette. He checked on Olivia, then walked into the kitchen and raided the fridge. It was evident that Lindsay's mom had spent much of her visit making sure the new parents did not have to worry about cooking for a while as Tupperware containers lined the shelves and filled the freezer. He helped himself to some chicken and a soda, then sprawled out on the couch and turned on the Yankees-Jays game.

Half an hour later, he was cursing the umpire's poor eyesight when a wail startled him. The wail was quickly followed by a long string of them. He jumped up from his seat and rushed over to the bassinettes to see which twin was the cause of the noise. He found Olivia kicking and flailing, her face red as she screamed. Matteo was still sleeping, though with each cry he was beginning to stir.

Don quickly scooped the little girl up his arms, trying to quiet her. _Olivia likes to be held when she's awake_, he remembered Lindsay saying. "Shhh. It's okay, sweetheart. Man, you got a set of pipes on ya, huh?"

Her cries began to dissipate, and a glance down at the other bassinette showed Matteo falling back to sleep. Don breathed a sigh of relief, knowing two screaming babies was probably more than he could take, and he started to walk the floor with his charge.

"You hungry?" he asked her as her cries morphed into coos. He carried her into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Staring at the bottles inside, he furrowed his brow as he tried to remember Lindsay's instructions: _"Breast milk on the right, formula on the left. Olivia was nursed at her last feeding, so when she eats again, give her some of the formula."_

"Okay, left it is." He grabbed one of the bottles and took the little girl into the living room where he sat back down on the couch. He held her in his left arm and started to feed her the bottle. She ate readily, her eyes never leaving Don's face.

"You really are a cutie. Your pop and I are in some serious trouble, beautiful, aren't we? You look just like your ma. Don't tell her – and definitely don't tell your pop – but I used to kind of have a crush on your mom. And something tells me that you're gonna grow up to be just like her. Tough and smart, brave, and a little quirky. That means Messer's gonna be busy keepin' those teenaged horndogs away. And don't think for one sec I'm gonna take your side. I'll be backin' your dad up all the way. And you definitely are not allowed to date any guy that's anything like we were back in the day. You're better than that, all right? Always remember that, doll. You and your brother, you're the reason your mom, dad and I do what we do: to try to make this crazy world as good as it can be for you. So no matter what, you gotta promise you'll never settle for anything less than the best. You got it, sweetheart?"

Olivia finished her bottle, allowed herself to be burped, and promptly fell back to sleep. However, every time Don went to get up to put her back in her bassinette, she would stir and fuss. Finally, he decided to let her sleep in his arms while he continued watching the Yankees trounce the Jays.

During a commercial break, he realized Lindsay would not be happy about coming home to find a bunch of dishes in her living room, so with Olivia snug in one arm, he took his dinner plate and glass into the kitchen and loaded them into the dishwasher. On his way back into the living room, Matteo started to fuss. Unfortunately, this spurred Olivia to stir and soon she was wailing again. This in turn woke Matteo completely and he, too, began to cry.

"Oh, this is so not good," he muttered.

Olivia's cries seemed to rise a few decibels and Matteo quickly caught up. Making sure he had her still secure in one arm, he leant down and scooped Matteo up in the other. He was soon pacing the floor with a screaming infant in each arm, desperately trying to soothe them both. But apparently walking with them was not going to work. He tried changing them. They did not need to be changed. He tried feeding Matteo. Matteo was apparently not hungry. He tried singing. He tried making funny faces. They were apparently not amused. He tried calling in reinforcements. Stella just laughed at him, told him he would be hearing about this later, then ordered him not to interrupt her date again. Sheldon did not even pick up. His sisters were even more amused than Stella had been, and with a houseful of kids of their own, simply offered some suggestions. Mac – well, Don was too afraid to call Mac.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but really only encompassed two innings of a major league baseball game, Flack collapsed on the living room sofa, a twin falling asleep in each arm.

Not much had changed when Danny and Lindsay walked in a couple hours later. Well, the ball game had long since ended, and Don had long since given into his exhaustion. He was leaning his head back on the couch, fighting sleep with the twins still in his arms.

"I wish I had my camera," Danny smirked.

"Shut it, Messer. Bonasera's gonna be busting my chops enough as it is," Don replied, opening his eyes as the new parents walked into the living room.

"Did something happen?" Lindsay asked worriedly.

"No. But you forgot to warn me that these two can cry louder and longer than – well, whatever can cry loud and long."

Danny chuckled in amusement. "You probably should've told him that, Montana."

"Hey, he took down the Wilder crime family. He told me it was no problem. I figured he knew what he was doing," she kidded. She walked over and took her daughter in her arms, looking her over. "Well, she looks all in one piece."

"Ha, ha, ha. Laugh it up, Monroe. So, Messer, your old man okay?"

Danny nodded. "Yeah. They're gonna keep him overnight, then run some more tests in the morning if he gets worse, but everything looks okay."

"That's good."

"Here, let me take this little guy off your hands." Danny picked up Matteo and smiled warmly down at his son. "We really appreciate this, man."

Don stood, shrugging. "What are friends for, right? But I think you owe me a pizza and a six-pack for this."

"You got it."

"And with that, I'm off. There's a bed that's got my name on it, and a day off waiting to be had."

"All right, man. Thanks again."

Don kissed Lindsay's cheek, shook Danny's hand, then headed off.

"We need to find Don a woman," Lindsay sighed as she and Danny put the twins to bed a short while later.

Danny raised his eyebrows. "Where'd that come from?"

"He survived a night with these two. That man is definitely father material. Not to mention he's a hot detective."

"Hey, there's only one hot detective you're supposed to notice here, Montana."

She smirked. "C'mon, cowboy. It's been a long night. I think I need to put you to bed, too."

"I learned a long time ago not to argue with you. Lead the way."

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**AN/2 **I apologize for the Italian. I barely speak high school French, so I utilized Babelfish.

Translations:

No, we'll be there soon.

The Flacks have more kids in their family than we do.

Mama, I know…


End file.
